A Handful Of Coins
by EvanlynPendragon
Summary: Arthur and Merlin. Two sides of the same coin. But there are so many more coins in this gamble. If only they could tell which ones are really gold. But they will have to find out the hard way. Destiny is calling, boys. Don't be late.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the TV series. That would be the BBC. And for some reason, they won't give them up... I do own the plot line and all of my OCs so hands off. If you want to borrow anything original in this story for your own work, email me or ask in a review. Chances are, I'll be fine with it, just don't steal. Thanks.**

A/N: I'm disregarding all episodes but the one with Freya and the one where Gwen's father is killed and of course, any others that don't mess up my plot line. However, several episodes do get in the way so please pretend that they never happened. Especially the one where Nimueh dies. THIS NEVER HAPPENED. EVER. 

-A Midsummer Knight's Mare

If there was one thing that Uther Pendragon was better at holding than a grudge, it was a ball. And, the summer solstice looming, the ladies of the court had deemed that throwing a fitting celebration was non-debatable. And so, the King had surrendered (with surprisingly good grace) to their demands, insisting only on a tourney to take place on the day, and the preparations were in full swing. The menu had been finalized; the guest list decided; the decorations chosen; the entertainment selected and the invitations sent. Seamstresses worked late into the night and servants were forced into overdrive.

One particular servant was feeling the pressure of the upcoming festivities as he tried desperately to pander to Arthur's "needs", play errand boy for Gaius and run around ferrying messages and decorations between the frazzled servants. His impossibly full schedule and Gaius's habit of sending him out at odd hours of the morning to collect 'medicinal' flowers had encouraged the popular belief that Merlin never slept.

After what felt like no time at all, the guests were arriving and people of all walks of life were piling into the stands around the arena, where the tourney was being held. Merlin was in Arthur's tent, strapping the older man into his armour, and trying to nod at the right places while Arthur talked himself up.

'...It's really just an exhibition match, so it's not as if it really matters anyway...'

'Mmhmmm...' Merlin said, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he did the clasps on Arthur's breastplate. The sound of the first two rookies hacking clumsily at each other reached them through the thin material of the tent, closely followed by the roar of the crowds.

'...half of them have only just been knighted anyway, like Sir Norman...'

Merlin made a face; he disliked Sir Norman. He hailed from Ealdor, as did Merlin, and during their youth the bigger (and older) boy had enjoyed the popular sport Merlin Hunting. As suggested by the name, this game consisted of all of Norman's friends chasing Merlin around the village until he was caught. When he was caught, whoever had caught him received the honor and pleasure of beating him senseless. Of course, the game had a few rules: the first was that the game was only to be played with no adults present. The second was that no one was to hit his face for risk of their game being discovered. The third was less a rule and more an encouragement; if he fought back, everybody got to join in the beating.

Now that Norman was a knight, he took every opportunity his new status gave him to make Merlin's life hell. From hissing 'fatherless' at him whenever he passed him, to tripping him up on his way to deliver Arthur's breakfast.

'...They're as green as they come...Not even men yet...' Merlin kept nodding, shifting his focus to attaching Arthur's gauntlets.

'...Gwen wouldn't be interested in any of them...not mature enough for her...' Merlin made a vague noise of agreement and knelt down to fasten the ties on Arthur's shin guards.

'...and she's too good for any of them...and it's not like they're handsome enough to even merit a glance from her...they're all idiots...aren't they?' He glanced down at his manservant, who was reaching around his leg, tying his laces, and frowned.

'Merlin? They're idiots, aren't they?' Merlin looked up at him.

'What? Oh, uh, yeah, idiots. Morons. You've got no competition. They can't hold a candle to you, not to her. Half of them are practically still _children_ and the other half are about _forty_ and _married_. And besides, she only has eyes for you anyway.' He hurried to assure the surprisingly insecure looking Prince. Arthur only looked slightly more confident. Merlin sighed internally, getting to his feet to stand opposite his master.

'Look, don't worry about it. You have nothing to lose. The tourney's only being held for entertainment's sake so it doesn't even matter who wins. Just concentrate on the man trying to get you with a pointy piece of metal and not on the pretty girl standing behind your sister and you'll be fine. Gwen will love you whether you flatten your opponents or get flattened so _relax_.' Arthur narrowed his eyes.

'You think she's pretty?' Merlin looked to the heavens, in exasperation.

'Out of my whole impromptu motivational speech, _that_ is what you pick up on?' Arthur kept his eyes trained on Merlin. Merlin breathed out.

'I _know_ she's pretty - a blind person could see that much - but I don't look at her the way you do. She's a close friend but nothing more. Nothing like that. So you can stop plotting to kill me in my sleep now, if you please.' Arthur seemed to accept this, then he frowned again.

'You think she loves me?'

'I know she does, Arthur.' Arthur looked emboldened and said,

'Of _course_ she does. Why wouldn't she? I'm _me_.' His trademark confidant smirk had reclaimed its almost permanent position on his handsome face. "_And there's the Crown Prick we all know and love..._" Merlin thought, shaking his head.

'I'm the _prince_. Every woman in Camelot wants me - of course Gwen wants me too. I'm _gorgeous_. I'm the best warrior in the _kingdom_. I'm not about to lose in an _exhibition_ match. Or in any other fight-' The trumpet signalling that the one of the first pair of knights had 'killed' the other. Mercifully for Merlin, it also meant that Arthur needed enter the arena.

Arthur straightened up, pulling his shoulders back and lifting his chin. He pulled his sword from its scabbard and gave it a few experimental swings, then seemingly satisfied, sheathed it with a smirk.

'Alright. We're on.' He said, the pre-non-lethal-sword fight adrenaline making him jumpy. Merlin grinned and followed Arthur through the tent flap and into the bright sunlight.

The crowd screamed at the sight of their golden boy, striding down the aisle into the middle of the arena, Merlin following behind him to stand just outside the ring, the King and his company seated behind him. The winner of the last fight gave Arthur a nod, which Arthur returned; this would be a fair fight. No underhanded tactics would be employed by either fighter and no fatal wounds would be dealt.

Arthur faced his opponent, Sir Riley, who had been knighted shortly after him. For the sake of dramatizing the celebrations, it had been decided that the Lady Morgana would start each match by dropping a handkerchief. The victor of the tourney would receive the handkerchief (symbolizing her favour) and a single kiss from her Ladyship. Needless to say, the smile on Morgana's face was as false as her beauty was true. She stood and moved to the edge of the royal box (1), smiling to the crowds. They went deadly silent as she lifted the small square of white material, waiting for it to fall.

Morgana dropped it. The second it left her hand, the sound of swords clashing began and the audience yelled wildly. Morgana looked down at the handkerchief, wishing Uther had chosen someone else, anyone else, for the job. But he'd insisted on her performing it and she knew perfectly well why: Arthur would win and then she would have to kiss him.

Another oh so subtle attempt by Uther to bring the two together. She moved back to her seat and glanced at Gwen, hoping for some conversation but her maid was clearly enthralled by Arthur. She rolled her eyes mentally and turned back to the fight. Arthur was better, _of course_, but both were hamming it up, making elaborate showy swings to thrill the crowd. She sighed, letting her thoughts carry her far away from the stupid competition.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder and she turned slightly to see who it was. Merlin leant down and whispered in her ear,

'I believe this would be yours.' He grinned, handing the handkerchief back to her. She looked at it in resigned dislike and took it.

'Not looking forward to having to kiss Arthur?' He guessed, 'Or just sick of dropping the same handkerchief over and over again so that desperate knights can fight over you'

'Both.' She answered, 'Kissing Arthur will be awful - he's like family to me. _And_ Gwen loves him. And I'm beginning to hate this _thing_.' She gestured to the handkerchief she held.

'At least if it's Arthur, you know he won't take advantage of the opportunity like some of the knights would.' He said, leaning closer to her to be heard over the cheers. She could feel his breath on her neck and it sent a shiver down her spine. He nodded towards Sir Rodney, a dark haired knight standing on the side of the arena. She followed his gaze and he glanced up at her and sent her a flirty look, complete with roguish smile, smouldering eyes and toss of the head. She looked away immediately.

'I would warn you to keep a distance between him and yourself, Milady,' He said seriously, then grinned, 'but it would probably do no good.' She rolled her eyes.

'I am stubborn – not stupid, Merlin. And I need no warning to keep away from him. Gwen's told me the nature of his "love".' Merlin grimaced; clearly, Gwen hadn't told Morgana the full impact of Sir Rodney's 'games'. Well, she'd better tell her soon because _he_ sure as anything wasn't going to.

'He's not handsome enough to attract my attention anyway, so you needn't worry.' Merlin grinned.

'Of course he isn't.' He glanced back down at the fight and saw Arthur finish off Sir Riley. He made a face and said,

'I should go help Arthur.' He turned to leave but Morgana grabbed his hand.

'No - stay. Arthur can manage by himself. It's not like he even has to take of his armour because he'll be fighting again soon. All he needs is some water and anyone can get him that. Gwen's far too interested in the tournament to be any sort of conversationalist.' Merlin's grin returned.

'If that's a command from the King's ward, I believe I can do that.' She smiled in return; perhaps this tourney wouldn't be as dull as she'd anticipated. Neither of them noticed Arthur as he looked to where Merlin was supposed to be standing and searched around for him. They didn't see the frown on his face as he spotted him in the royal box next to Morgana or the surprise that replaced it as he took in their joined hands. He shook his head, brushing it off as something weird about Merlin, and gestured to a general servant to get him some water.

***That evening, at a location not to be disclosed to the reader lest it give away the plot…***

It was dark. The sun was disappearing over the horizon and leaving only the last lights of day behind. But she could see perfectly. Her companion stood hidden in the shadows a few meters away, on the other side of the road. She returned her gaze to the road, eyes narrowing as she glimpsed the horse-drawn carriage that was the reason she'd been waiting by this road for two hours.

It came nearer and her lips curled into a smile. She didn't have to look to know that her accomplice was watching her, waiting for the signal. She kept her eyes trained on the carriage. It was only yards away. She raised her hand.

It came closer, the driver whistling cheerfully. He suspected nothing. Fool. She closed her fingers into a fist and her lips formed the word 'now' but no sound came out.

She opened her fist and the ancient words rolled off her tongue. The driver froze, looking shocked. _Stop the carriage_. He yanked hard on the reins, ignoring the pained noise that issued from one of the horses. She darted out of the darkness, hissing more of the strange language as the carriage door opened and a man stuck his head out,

'Odo? What's-' but that was all he got the chance to say before the black light streaming from her palm hit him and he collapsed, his body falling from the carriage to lie limply on the ground. A thud sounded from the other side of the carriage and she knew her partner had succeeded. She flicked her hand at the unconscious man and he floated behind her as she moved around the carriage to see her ally levitating the man's wife to the edge of the forest.

She followed him, ending the spell and allowing him to drop as soon as they were out of sight of the road. She took note of their features and dress before whispering another spell and watching as her companion took on the form of the man she'd just knocked out. Then she waited impatiently for him to change her appearance to that of the woman. In seconds, they were exact replicas of their victims, from top to toe.

She allowed herself a victorious smirk, before nodding to the carriage. He opened the door for her, mocking the nobility that had ridden last in it. Her smirk grew and she climbed into the coach. He stepped in easily and took the seat opposite her. _Drive to Camelot_. The driver seemed to wake from a trance and flicked the reins. The horses began walking. _Faster_. He picked up the crop beside him and smacked the horse closest to him. It whinnied and sped up. The woman's cruel smile grew.

***That evening, at the feast***

The dining hall was packed, nobles' laughter echoing in the high ceiling. The tourney was over and (of course) Arthur had won. He'd dutifully let his father congratulate him, taken the 'favour' from Morgana and grinned victoriously at the crowd as he waved it above his head. They'd cheered as he did and only cheered louder when Morgana had, after an unsubtle poke from Uther, smiled politely and taken Arthur's face in her hands and kissed him lightly on the lips. They'd shared their usual 'I hate doing this' (from Morgana) and 'I know, me too, I wish Father would give it up' (from Arthur) looks then turned to smile beatifically for the benefit of their audience.

Then the common folk had returned to their homes to prepare for their meals while the noblemen and women, along with the knights and the servants of all of the above, returned to the castle for the feast. Now in full swing, only one couple was missing from the celebrations: Sir Calibor and Lady Edith. Due to an injury he'd received in a border squabble many years ago, Sir Calibor had been unable to fight, be it for a tournament or a war. In light of this, he'd refrained from watching tourneys lest the regret and bitterness return to the usually jovial man. So he'd accepted the King's invitation and informed him that he would arrive in time for the feast.

He had not. The feast had started half an hour ago and only now did his carriage pull up outside the castle. Merlin was hovering behind his master, impatiently and glancing out the window every few seconds when it did. He squinted, trying to see the driver of the carriage better. Was it…? Yes, it was. Odo. He grinned, noticing the obvious white mark on the side of one of the horses. Odo took that horse everywhere. He said she brought him good luck and doted on her.

He looked at Arthur. He seemed to have no need of him just now, his plate and goblet full. He leaned forward to speak to him. Arthur turned.,

'Yes, Merlin. What is it?'

'Sir Calibor and Lady Edith have arrived,' he gestured to the window, 'I wondered if I could go greet the driver; he's a friend of mine.' Arthur glanced at his plate, then out the window and shrugged.

'Don't see why not. Go. But be back within the hour.' He said, returning to the other knights' conversation. Merlin gave a short bow, then left the room. He heard a man announce the arrival of the late comers as he reached the door to the courtyard.

He saw Odo, and raised his hand to wave then paused. Odo was walking _away_ from the horses and his movements were slightly jerky, as if forced. He looked like a badly controlled puppet, Merlin realized, watching Odo drop the riding crop he'd been holding as if he'd simply forgotten to curl his fingers around it. Then he turned and walked straight past Merlin without even seeming to see him.

Merlin frowned, moving towards the abandoned horses. He unclipped their harnesses and pulled it off, then led them both to the stables. He picked up a brush and began brushing out the first horse's coat absently. Why was Odo behaving so strangely? The mare suddenly pulled away and snickered in pain. He looked down, suddenly noticing the bloody mark on her flank. It looked like she'd been hit with a crop or a whip. But Odo would never, _ever_ lay a hand on her. He'd said so himself. But Odo didn't seem to be himself tonight-

His eyes widened. _Odo wasn't himself tonight_. He was being controlled by someone. That was why he was acting the way he was. Odo would never have behaved like that normally. He was usually all smiles and kind words, never missing an opportunity for a chat. He whistled unendingly as he worked but tonight he'd been silent.

So he _was_ a puppet.

A sorcerer's puppet.

But if someone had been controlling Odo, Sir Calibor would have noticed. Unless he too was enchanted, but then Lady Edith would've noticed. So they were both in it, either willingly or unwillingly. But they weren't magic, he'd have felt it on them long ago, so there was a sorcerer or a witch involved somehow. Panic gripped him as he realized he'd just left Arthur in a room with one, possibly two potential magical threats. Threats that he couldn't fight.

He dropped the brush and pelted out of the stables, towards the dining hall. The way back seemed to have lengthened while he'd been with the horse, his stomach sinking as he noticed the lack of servants in the corridors. He pushed his legs harder.

***In the dining hall about ten minutes beforehand***

'Sir Calibor' laughed heartily at something one of the young knights said, glancing at 'Lady Edith'. Yes, she'd started chanting under her breath, her wine goblet in front of her mouth to hide the movement of her lips. _Thank heavens… _He didn't think he could survive another five minutes in the same room as a living, breathing Uther Pendragon without messing up their plan and shattering 4 months of work.

'…_freórigan beinnan hwílfacu…wæran ac freórigan…mægenléasu_.'(3) She murmured, eyes fixated on the reason she had lost everything, sitting in his throne, smiling and laughing. Drinking, _enjoying _himself. _Guiltless_. He didn't even regret it, she thought. But that would change…she could see her spell working even as she watched.

Uther's smile faltered and she could see his mind struggling to understand what was going on. His movements became slower and she saw the fear in his eyes, mirrored in the eyes of every one at the table. Everyone but her and her companion. Lor. His desire for revenge almost matched hers. She'd have looked at him but she couldn't, _wouldn't_, tear her eyes away from Uther. She saw Arthur struggling against the power of her magic on the edge of her vision, trying to move, stand, fight.

She stood, pushing her chair away from her. She heard Lor do the same and she walked slowly around the table to stand in front of the most undeserving King of all time.

'Hello, Uther.' She smiled pleasantly and continued, 'Do you have any last wishes for me to ignore because, as I'm sure you'll have figured out, I'm going to kill you tonight.' She paused as if listening to his response, then suddenly laughed.

'Oh, not immediately! Goodness no! You worry too much, Uther. No, I'm going to have some fun before you die. Hmmm...let's see...'

She looked at him, knowing that he was following her every move with his frozen gaze. She turned to Arthur with an innocent smile.

'Perhaps we'll start with your son…he is the reason for,' she gestured vaguely, 'all this.' Uther couldn't show his panic but she could feel it rolling off him in waves. She could imagine his pleas. _Anyone_ but him, I'll do _anything_, don't hurt _him_…Oh she would hurt him and it would _kill_ Uther, she thought viciously. Her hand shot out and Arthur's body rose from its chair and floated to the ground in front of her. He lay, still, and she looked up at Uther. _It all ends now, Pendragon_. _It all ends now._

***Back to Merlin at the same time***

He was almost there. He could hear _her_ voice through the open door.

'Perhaps we'll start with your son…he is the reason for,' a pause, 'all this.' He saw her lift Arthur from behind the table, then drop him in front of it. _No!_

Instinctively, his magic reached out and almost _pulled_ the spell off the Prince. Arthur was standing in a second, sword drawn as he faced her, standing between her and his father. Merlin halted suddenly as he reached the doorway, watching the scene before him.

'_Who are you?_' Arthur spat through his teeth. She laughed.

'Take a guess. Who wants your father dead more than anything in the world? Who has the _power_ to do this?' She gestured at the frozen guests. 'Rack your brains, little boy – it shouldn't take long.' Arthur's eyes narrowed.

'_Who are you?_' He asked again. She sighed theatrically and clicked her fingers, purely for dramatic effect. She began to change, as did the man by her side. The man grew taller, his physique improved and Arthur winced, taking in the sight of him. He would have to fight him. And chances were he had magic too. _Damn_. 'Lady Edith' shrunk, her hair changing colour and skin darkening. Her gown, once light blue, was now gray.

_'Nimueh?_' He said incredulously. She only smiled and raised her hand. Merlin was running again before the words had formed in her head.

'æledfýr.' She hissed and fire exploded from her palm, flying towards Arthur. His eyes widened then he felt something hit him and his world tilted suddenly. His head slammed into the floor and the world spun, dots appearing in his vision. He disjointedly realized that the weight of whatever had knocked him over was gone. He heard Nimueh's voice.

'_You!_' She sounded beyond furious and Arthur pitied whoever was on the receiving end of her anger. 'Why are you _always_ getting in the way?' It sounded like she might stomp her foot, like a child that didn't get its way.

'It's a hobby of mine.' A man's voice returned. Wait a second - that was Merlin's voice. _Merlin_ was defying a powerful sorcerer! _Merlin!_ He was doomed, Arthur thought with a sinking feeling.

'Move, boy.' She commanded irritably.

'Then I'd have gotten my shirt singed for nothing,' Merlin quipped, 'so no. I won't move.' The idiot was provoking her! Arthur wanted to hit him, or throw something.

'I said, _move_.' She growled. Arthur opened his eyes. Sure enough, Merlin was standing in front of him and for some unfathomable reason, Nimueh hadn't slaughtered him yet.

'No.' Her eyes narrowed to slits.

'Fine. Let's try something else.' Arthur didn't even hear her say the spell but he saw the knife fly off the table and speed through the air towards his manservant. His whole being screamed at him to get up but he couldn't. His arms wouldn't hold him up. _Goddamn_ _it!_

Merlin reached behind him and yanked a bowl from the table and put it directly in the path of the blade. The knife hit it and immediately ricocheted out of the bowl and clattered to the floor near Arthur's feet. Nimeuh's eyebrows shot up.

'A _bowl_? You're defending your King with a _bowl_?'

'Um, yes?' Arthur felt like laughing but the pain in his head discouraged him quickly.

She hissed more of the language that to him sounded a lot like something dying and a ball of energy appeared between her cupped hands.

'Are you really willing to die for them? Really truly? Because this,' she spun the ball around, 'can't just be blocked by crockery.' Merlin answered without thinking.

'Yes.' She paused and the ball of energy fizzled away. She frowned.

'_Why?_ They've treated you like dirt since the day you arrived. That _thing_,' she pointed at Uther, 'has _murdered_ your friends, he took little Gwen's father from her. Do you remember that? Do you remember holding her, rocking her as she cried for him? But you still defend _him_.' Merlin stood, resolutely silent, staring her in the eye. Nimueh glanced at Arthur.

'_He_ killed Freya. Do you remember _that_? Do you remember carrying her in your arms, her blood staining your shirt? Have you forgotten that it was he who stabbed her? She would be _alive_ if not for him. Alive, warm. You could have held her, talked to her…kissed her.' Merlin's eyes clouded over and his fists clenched but he didn't speak. _Who the Hell was Freya?_,Arthur wondered. And what had she meant when she said that he had stabbed 'her'? He'd never stabbed a woman but Freya was definitely a girl's name.

Merlin still hadn't said anything. Arthur's heart rate increased. He couldn't see his manservant's face. He had no way of knowing what he was thinking. He wanted to scream that he hadn't done anything; that he didn't know what she was talking about but he couldn't.

Nimueh took a step forward and put her hand on Merlin's cheek. When she spoke, her voice was soft.

'You loved that girl. You loved her, Merlin. And you never got to tell her. Because of him.' She was whispering now, her tone like syrup. 'Because of him. You call him friend but he doesn't care. He doesn't really care. Not really. He didn't think before he struck her.

'He didn't see the helpless victim that she was. The girl who had been through so much and turned out so good. He didn't see anyone. He saw magic, and he attacked. He follows his father's lead blindly. Like a sheep. Sheep don't belong in castles, Merlin. They don't sit in thrones and wear crowns. They aren't Kings. They aren't _worthy_.' Somehow Arthur got the impression that she wasn't talking about sheep anymore.

'They take away our loved ones without even pausing to consider the repercussions of their actions on us, their subjects. We are supposed to trust them but,' She lifted her hands helplessly, 'why should we?' She was good, Arthur had to admit. _He_ was almost beginning to believe her.

'Should we follow them? Should we let them lead us forward, over the bodies of innocents…? Innocents like Freya?' She let her words hang for a moment.

'Yes, it hurt, didn't it...I can help you get revenge, boy, for every taunt and every bruise they've given you. All you have to do, is move. One step and they'll be gone. You'll never have to see another friend fall. Just move.' Arthur's heart sunk as Merlin tensed. He was going to step aside. He was going to let her kill his father. Kill him. _No, no, no, n-_

'No.' _Wait - what?_

'What?' Nimueh sounded as shocked as he felt.

'I said, "no".' Merlin said slowly, as if talking to a child. Nimueh's mind worked furiously. Her speech had been _perfect_. What had gone wrong? Where had she slipped up? _No matter_, she thought. She would finish this and no amount of stubbornness from an idiot serving boy would stop her.

'Fine. _ásele mec æhtgeweald sylfum hys feorhbold_.' (2) Merlin's body flew up and with a flick of her wrist, he slammed into the wall. His head snapped back and he slid down the wall to land in a broken looking heap on the floor. He didn't move. Arthur's heart jumped into his throat.

Merlin was down for the count, Nimueh was advancing on his defenceless father and he, Crown Prince of Camelot, was doing nothing. His lips pulled into a snarl and he forced himself to stand, moving painfully into a defensive stance. Nimueh looked at him and raised an unimpressed eyebrow. She glanced at Uther,

'_This_ is the best your precious son can do?' She turned back to Arthur and said, in the manner of an adult talking to a very young child. 'You poor, delusional, little boy. You don't really think you stop me with that.' She gestured to the longsword in his hands.

'Lor. Take care of the whelp. I want this finished.' She said, zeroing in on her target. The man grinned, stepping forward. Arthur blanched, looking up at him. He backed away from the two so that he stood between them, directly in front of his father. He levelled his sword at his opponent's midsection. Lor's smiled widely, pulling out his own weapon, a silver broadsword half the size of a man, and swinging it around easily.

Then he attacked, sword swinging towards Arthur's head. Arthur blocked and punched his unguarded stomach. Lor tensed and Arthur winced as his hand hit solid muscle but Lor was already attacking again, forcing Arthur backwards. He defended himself, trying to push Lor away from him…and his prone father. As he did, he was all too aware of Nimueh beginning her chant. He fought harder out of desperation as Nimueh chanted louder and louder.

***Merlin's POV***

He could hear Arthur fighting the giant, the clashing of their swords making his head pound. Nimueh chanting something he didn't have the presence of mind to understand but he didn't care. He just wished they would be quiet and let him retreat back to the welcoming darkness.

Wait- Nimueh chanting- Arthur and that hulking _brute _of a man fighting- Nimueh- Arthur- Magic- Arthur! Suddenly the events of the last few minutes flooded back into his mind and he forced himself to his feet, eyes opening sluggishly as his mind whirred into action. He had to protect Arthur. He pushed himself off the wall, ignoring the way the world spun in front of him and stumbled forwards.

_Do something_, his mind screamed. He couldn't do magic – the whole court was here and aware of everything around them although frozen – but he could fight in other ways, he realized. He could fight like Arthur would. Aided of course, by magic, but no one would notice as long as he fought like a _normal_ person. He yanked a dagger out of its scabbard on the nearest knight's belt and sent it spinning through the air with an inconspicuous flash of gold and flick of the wrist.

It struck Lor in the back of the shoulder and he yelled out, falling like a tree in a thunderstorm – hard. Nimueh glanced at him and her eyes widened but she continued chanting faster, the words tripping over themselves as they rolled off her tongue. Arthur looked up to see Merlin vaulting over the table and moving towards them. Relief filled him and he grinned.

'Arthur! Stop her!' Merlin left off the 'idiot' he instictively wanted to finish that last sentence with. He looked down, knowing that Nimueh was powerless to protect herself while casting – she'd counted on Lor to do that. _Speaking of which... _Merlin thought. Lor was on the floor beside him, blood quickly soaking his shirt. Merlin considered pulling the knife out and letting the man bleed to death faster, but that part of him that Arthur liked to call his 'inner girl' protested the idea.

He looked up to see Nimeuh backing away from Arthur, frantically dodging blows as she chanted even faster. Her back hit the table and her eyes showed her panic. Then Arthur struck her, opening a gash in her arm. She shrieked, breaking the chant, as blood spurted from the wound. Arthur stood in front of her, ready to defend himself if need be, but unwilling to kill her; she _was_ a woman, after all. _But she didn't have to know that_, he thought, an idea in his head. In the blink of an eye, he'd pressed the blade of his sword against her neck. She froze.

'Leave Camelot. Break the spell, then leave and never come back.' He growled into her ear. He leaned closer.

'Or I _will_ kill you.' She swallowed and looked over to Lor. Then nodded slowly, so as not to slice her neck open. Arthur stepped away from her and she stumbled away, hand pressed to the open wound, still bleeding heavily. Then she grabbed Lor's hand and, eye's never leaving Arthurs, hissed,

'G_eændung.__ Á__spédan._' (4)

And as though, she'd never been there, she was gone.

_The End_

**FOOTNOTES (IMPORTANT!)**

**(1) The royal box is basically just a section of the stands that is partitioned off and, as the name suggests, it's where the King, his family (in this case Morgana), his favored nobles and/or knights and their servants sit. Or rather, in the case of the servants, stand.**

**(2) The basic translation of this is 'frozen in time…aware but frozen…helpless.'**

**(3) The basic translation of this spell is 'give me control of his body'**

**(4) The basic translation of these spells are 'finish' and 'escape'.**

**A/N: It's not the end of the story, just of this... prologue episode thingy-majig. I've written 'the end' because the prologue and chapter one are a few months apart and quite seperate. Alright! Now that the explanation's over! If you've read all of the above and are now reading this authors note, you clearly thought my work was worth reading – or you were just really, really bored – so please review! I love getting feedback on my writing (as does just about every author on the planet) and I would absolutely **_**love**_** to hear your comments!**

**Until next update! Thanks for reading,**

**EvanlynPendragon**

**P.S. The name of the chapter ('A Midsummer Knight's Mare') is a play on 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', by William Shakespeare. It fit because the feast is on the Summer Solstice (hence the 'midsummer' part) and Uther and the rest of the court owe their lives to a horse that belonged to a knight. Also, there's the play with 'night' and 'knight' If that doesn't make sense, hopefully this will explain the connection: Merlin realises that something is **_**extremely**_** wrong when he sees that Odo's beaten his favourite **_**mare**_**. If he hadn't seen that, he wouldn't have been in time to save Arthur or Uther... or anyone else for that matter. :P Okay, so that still doesn't make sense. Nevermind, if you understand, good, if you don't, it really doesn't matter. It's just the covoluted inner workings of my mind.**

**I'm stopping now, I swear. :P**

**EvanlynPendragon**


	2. Chapter 2

A Handful Of Coins

-About A Girl

***Two months later***

She was stunning, even dressed as she was, in a ragged shift that had to be freezing. Her sleeves were torn at the shoulder, revealing an intricate black and red symbol inked into the skin of her upper arm. She had dirty blonde hair that fell to her shoulders and remarkably expressive gray eyes. Currently, they burned with emotion, shame and anger marking her striking features with the hard lines of a scowl. But even dirty and unkempt, she looked like royalty, with high cheekbones giving her face a sense of elegance and dignity that many queens could only dream of. Her hands were shackled to the side of the cage she was in, holding her in what must have been a horribly uncomfortable position, yet she stayed, legs crossed beneath her, back ramrod straight and head held high.

She had magic - any passerby could tell by the brand seared into the side of the horse pulling her cage. 'Rion', it said, accompanied by the infamous symbol for 'bounty hunter'. Rion specialized in magical beings and everybody knew it; if it was in the cage, it was magic. Her observer's forehead creased in sympathy, then pain as he recalled another girl who had once occupied the same cage as the girl who did now...

'Merlin!' The man in question turned, grateful for the interruption for stopping that train of thought before it got too out of hand; collapsing onto the flagstones of the town square and bawling his eyes out with no explanation to give would be a Very Bad Thing.

'Yes, Arthur?' Arthur glared at him.

'You haven't been listening to me, have you?' Merlin forced himself to grin and say cheerfully,

'Not a word, sire.' Arthur opened his mouth, presumably to say something rude, seeing as that was usually the kind of thing he said to Merlin, but then shut it with a snap and said,

'I...I have nothing to say to that.' He sounded astonished. Then he shook himself,

'Listen, Merlin, and I mean it this time; me, Sir Leon, Sir Bayard and Sir Edmund are going hunting - don't give me that look, you don't have to come, in fact, I'd rather you didn't; you take all the fun out hunting. Anyway, we're going with the rookies to give them some experience. We're leaving tomorrow and we'll be gone for a week. For that time, I expect you to keep my room clean and have my armour repaired; it's still got that dent in it from the fight last week. Other than that, you will be helping Gaius with...whatever he needs help with. Are we clear?' Merlin nodded, following his master through the crowded square.

'Of course.' But Arthur had already moved on, pushing through the shoppers and waved his hand at Merlin, dismissing him. Wherever he was going, it didn't require Merlin's attendance, something the manservant was fine with; he wanted to see that girl again.

No, he needed to see that girl again.

He turned around and started back the way he had come, slipping through the crowd without too much difficulty; being so thin had its advantages. He saw the top of the cage over someone's head and his legs moved faster almost involuntarily as he got closer to her. Then suddenly, he was standing on the edge of the crowd, which were all moving past the cage but leaving a wide gap between the girl and themselves, creating an empty space around her. Yet she still sat there, apparently oblivious but obviously completely aware of everything around her, like the eye of a storm, the centre of the trouble but the only calm thing.

Merlin stared at her. Her tattoo caught his eye again and he recognized the Druid symbol for 'fire kin', which basically meant 'wielder of fire'. So the girl was a Druid then, he thought.

She still hadn't moved. If she hadn't been blinking (albeit less often than the average person) he might've taken her for dead. Then she moved. It was only a tiny movement, and very slow. She turned her head ever so slightly, and looked at him. _Through_ him. He felt bare.

He was vaguely aware that he had frozen, as though petrified by her gaze. Then she looked away and Merlin nearly stumbled, feeling like she had been holding him up and then let him drop. His knees felt weak and his palms were sweating. He forced his eyes away from her, wiping his hands on his trousers and forcing himself to take shaky breaths. He took a step backwards, away from the girl, who had resumed her frankly unnerving observation of the shoppers, and moved into the crowd, letting it sweep him away from her.

***Later that day...***

Merlin tried not to roll his eyes as Lady Eveleigh swooned dramatically, allowing her head to fall back on the pillow. She had just finished regaling Gaius and himself with a long list of terrible symptoms (such as being hungry) and begging the aged physician to help her. Gaius sighed internally; the woman was simply ridiculous. Eating more was a natural part of being with child. Shaking himself, he said,

'I shall prepare you a tonic to ease your...strain, but other than that I can only suggest that you allow yourself to eat more than a few bites of your meals, milady; you are, after all, eating for two.' Lady Eveleigh's eyes fluttered open and, reaching for the physician's hand, she whispered breathily,

'Thank you, good man...you are, truly...so kind...' Then she let her hand fall weakly to the bed and her eyes shut. Her husband, a knight of the realm, stood up and moved around the bed from where he'd been sitting at his wife's side. He gestured towards the door and the three men slipped out of the room. As soon as he'd shut the door behind them he said quietly,

'Thank you Gaius, I know she's being...well, the same way she always is. Funny how it was so much more attractive before the wedding. After that, it is much harder to be the romantic star crossed lovers who meet so rarely that they can be totally in love but hardly know their "other half".' He looked at Merlin in the manner of a grandfather giving a youngster some of their worldly knowledge and clapped him on the shoulder almost hard enough to make his knees buckle.

'Be careful of that, son. There's always more to a woman than a pretty face, so I suggest you admire character before looks. Now, I'd best run while I can or she'll keep me in that room 'till the birth.' Gaius nodded and the man hastened down the corridor and away from his bed-ridden wife. Merlin waited until the man was out of earshot before asking,

'So...what did you think of the Lady Eveleigh's latest "crisis"?' Gaius looked at him sharply, as if to reprimand him for being disrespectful of a lady, then he gave him a small smile and said,

'She could have made it into an opera.' Merlin snorted, turning down the corridor to Arthur's bedroom.

'I know. I was half expecting her to start warbling on about how cruel the world was to take her from her love, who should try to live as best he could without her once she had 'departed this life'.' They stopped outside Arthur's room.

'Indeed. Once you've prepared Arthur for his hunting expedition, I need you to take Lady Eveleigh's prescription to her.'

'What are you going to give her?' Merlin asked curiously. Gaius gave him a conspiratorial half-smile and said simply,

'Water.' Merlin laughed, then watched as Gaius continued down the hallway. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. Arthur glared at him from where he stood in the middle of the room.

'Didn't anyone ever teach you to knock?' Arthur snapped irritably.

'No, sire.' The Prince sighed and shook his head.

'How did Hunith put with you for so long?'

'No idea, sire.' Merlin replied with a shrug.

'Well, however she did it, I wish she'd teach me.'

'Unlikely, sire; she doesn't associate with prats.' Arthur tried very hard not to strangle him...and had to admit that he was more than a little surprised when he succeeded.

'Is the call of the stocks so hard to resist?' Arthur asked, eyebrow raised.

'Seems to be, sire.' Then Merlin sniggered. Arthur looked affronted.

'What's wrong with you?'

'You looked like Gaius.' Arthur just stared at him, mouth slightly open, then he spluttered,

'I look _nothing_ like Gaius, thank you very much!'

'I meant the eyebrow thing...'

'What eyebrow thing?'

'Never mind...'

'Merlin!'

'Leaving now...' Merlin said, hurrying towards the door, Arthur's hunting expedition forgotten.

'Oh no you're not. You are going to get my things together.' Arthur said, folding his arms across his chest and smirking evilly. Merlin glared at him. Arthur nodded his head towards his wardrobe.

'Go on then. Get on with it.' The Prince held Merlin's gaze evenly. Merlin narrowed his eyes...Then his shoulders slumped and Arthur felt a rush of triumph at Merlin's submission as he said,

'Fine.' Arthur smirked again,

'Good.'

'Good.'

'Good.'

'Fine.'

'Fine.'

'Fine.'

'Shut up, Merlin.'

'Fine.'

'Merlin...'

'Fine.' The urge to strangle his manservant rose again and Arthur fought it down, chanting, 'breathe in, breathe out, don't kill him, breathe in, breathe out, you'd regret it if you never got to badger him again, breathe in, breathe out...' in his head. A self-satisfied smirk adorned Merlin's face as he moved towards Arthur's wardrobe, humming cheerfully. Arthur groaned.

***Later that night...***

It was either very late, or painfully early, Merlin thought, as he slipped down the corridor, his soft leather boots sounding muted in the quiet. He shivered, turning a corner and making his way down another narrow hallway. Reaching the end of the corridor, he pressed his thin body flat against the wall and listened hard. Nothing. Good, no idiot out for a midnight stroll. That'll make this easier, he thought, picking up speed as he hurried down the staircase.

He stumbled off the last step (catching himself at the last second) and righted himself, yanked a flaming torch of the wall and headed down the last passageway. It was really more of a roughly hewn tunnel actually, Merlin reflected, stepping out onto the ledge and calling out.

'Dragon!' His voice echoed in the cavernous lair and he pushed down the feeling of inferiority.

'Dragon!' He called again. This time, the dragon responded, seeming almost to fall out of the sky (or rather, upper cave) before letting his wings slow his fall in time to land gracefully on the rocks beneath him.

'Yes, young warlock? What is it that brings you down here at such an hour this time?' The dragon said, not quite managing to sound interested. Merlin gave him a look, pressing his lips together irritably.

'I need your help.' He started.

'I'd gathered that by your presence here. You never do call on me for tea and biscuits anymore...' The dragon interrupted.

'Yes, well, I've been busy cleaning up after the other side of my bloody coin,' Merlin blustered defensively, 'And you don't even drink tea anyway! But this isn't about him, this is about the Druid girl-'

'Oh dear Lord, not another one...'

'The Druid girl, who, _as I was saying,_' Merlin bit out angrily; it was two hours past midnight and he was stuck chatting to a deliberately unhelpful dragon so he felt perfectly justified in his rudeness, 'is currently residing in Rion's cage in the town.' The dragon merely stared at him for a minute as if to say 'well what do you want me to do about it?'. Merlin was sure that he would've raised an eyebrow if he'd had an eyebrow to raise and he felt strangely like he was being subjected to one of Gaius's infamous stares. He gestured impatiently,

'Well?'

'Well...done. I'm prodigiously proud of you; you've managed to spend five minutes stating the obvious.' The dragon deadpanned. It was toying with him, Merlin realized in annoyance.

'What do I do?' He said slowly.

'I think we both know that you'll run along and rescue the girl no matter what I say so I really don't know why you bothered to ask for my counsel.' He said, yawning - if dragons could yawn. Merlin was wondering why he'd come too; the dragon clearly had no intention of actually helping him.

'But I just-' He paused and forced himself to take a breath, 'If I help the Druid girl, how will it affect Arthur?' The dragon shrugged his massive shoulders, then said rather amusedly,

'As you have stated so many times, young one: the world does not revolve around Arthur.' Stupid dragon...Merlin thought, glaring at him angrily.

'As disturbing as it is, my world does, so what will happen if I help her?' The dragon looked at him thoughtfully.

'You're right,' the dragon started. Merlin's shoulders sagged in relief; finally, he would get an actual answer, 'That is rather disturbing.' Merlin suddenly wished that he was about ten times bigger and more powerful so that he could just strangle the stupid thing and go back to bed. The dragon seemed to know what he was thinking and Merlin could've sworn it smirked.

'Now now, Merlin. Murder is discouraged in Camelot.'

'So is magic - hasn't stopped me yet, you bloody- irritating- insufferable- _dragon_.' Merlin half growled, surprising himself. The dragon laughed,

'Relax, young warlock; you look as if you're about to have a stroke and then who'd keep your other half out of trouble? And you couldn't kill me even if you really wanted to.' Merlin's blood boiled,

'He is _not_ my other half!' The dragon laughed some more.

'He is and we both know it.'

'Well, yes, but you make it sound different than how it is!'

'It is not wrong or right or anything else, it simply is.' The dragon stated with an air of finality. Merlin fumed.

'I cannot believe you! Why won't you help me? You're impossible! This is your future too! I'm the only one who can bring magic back to Camelot and you know that so _why don't you care?_ Would it kill you to give me a straight answer? Just once! Once! No riddles, no games, no tricks, no double meanings, no-'

'Enough.' Merlin shut up. 'Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps I do not know everything?' The dragon's voice was cool. Merlin swallowed,

'Are you saying you can't help me?' The dragon was quick to contradict him.

'I did not say that. I said that maybe I don't know everything. I never said that I didn't know this.'

'What's "this"?' The dragon seemed to smirk.

'That the Druid girl will be the catalyst of a new dawn and that dawn will be stained red,' the dragon leaned forward, 'with your blood.' Merlin froze, his mouth suddenly dry. He swallowed.

'What do you mean?' He demanded, hoping that the dragon hadn't heard his voice crack. The dragon leaned in closer,

'Exactly what I said, young warlock: _Your blood will run when the sun rises on betrayal_.' The dragon pulled back from him and unfurled his wings.

'Could you _get_ any more confusing? Or is that as mysterious and roundabout as you get?' Merlin yelled as the dragon beat his wings down and took off, rock crunching as he retracted his claws.

His loud, bellowing laughter echoed through the tunnel as Merlin turned on his heel and stormed back the way he'd come. Well, the dragon may have given him about as much help as Uther would if he discovered his magic, but Merlin had made his decision. He was going to save that girl, and no amount of riddles from the The-Great-Scaly-Thing-That-Lives-Under-Uther's-Dungeons was going to stop him. First though, he thought, he was going to bed. 

**A/N: What do we think? Me thinks you should click that button just there, the one with 'Review Chapter' on it. Yes, that's the one. Go on. Push it. You know you want to. It's calling you. Can you hear it? Begging you to push it.**

Oh yeah, and the title of this chapter is a play on 'About A Boy', if you didn't get it. Anyway, whether you love it, hate it or just want to say hi - push the button, Igor!

*Awkward silence*

Okay, I'm sorry - that was just bad. Really bad. Well, you get the point: I make bad jokes and reviews make me happy so if you feel like making my day, drop me a line!

Evanlyn Pendragon


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